


Proclivity

by Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Pictures, Drama, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Force bond without the Force?, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Phone sex?, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Smut, Soulmates, Violence, Wakes & Funerals, mention of rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 13:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12748923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: Rey's been working on a novel and needs to submit it to her editor, who just so happens to be Ben Solo. He seems to hold some sort of power over Rey that she can't understand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep an eye on the tags. They will be changing as chapters come out.

The pitter patter of keys clicking and the hum of computer fans were the only sounds in the room. It was mid-morning, and the Eastern sun was streaming in through the open window, highlighting specs of dust motes floating through the air. A light breeze fluttered in, rustling the translucent olive curtains gently. Rey was sitting in her high-backed computer chair, doing her best to concentrate on the work before her, full cup of tea nestled beside her. She had been unable to sleep last night; dreams had kept playing through her mind. She had to admit that they were extremely pleasant, but they had left her in a fitful state, unable to drift back into bliss.

She could remember the visions clearly. She had been laying on a bed covered in crimson silk sheets, much different than the three-hundred thread count ones she owned. These made her feel as though she were royalty. A pair of hands drifted up from her ankles, feather-light in their touch, climbing slowly toward the one place she ached the most. There had been a light sheen of sweat between the sloping mounds of her breasts; whatever this situation was had undoubtedly been an encore. Her thighs trembled at the caresses, hips arching ever so slightly in encouragement. She couldn't see whoever it was, but the surety in those hands had left her wanting. There was a deep chuckle, the kind a man only gets when he's sure you won't say no. When he's certain you're his in almost every way. It had set her skin ablaze, yearning for more. She felt velvety lips sliding along her inner thigh, up, up, up, almost _there_...

Her eyes had flashed open and she found herself alone in her bed. The frustration of the dream had been enough to drive her from the warm embrace of the sheets and out to her office. She could still feel the trail of those fingers on her skin, a cold reminder that she had no one, that even in her dreams her lovers abandoned her. And so here she sat, sipping on what had to be her fifth cup of tea, typing aimlessly at her computer. She had a deadline that demanded her attention, but she just couldn't seem to brush off those incredible sensations.

She needed to finish this book. It was her debut novel and she had a phone meeting with her new editor at the end of the week. She was a little apprehensive to meet the person. The company she was publishing through had given her no information on the individual she would be working with. 

She stretched, cracking her back. How long had she been sitting here now? She glanced at the time on the computer screen and groaned. Roughly four hours now and she didn't have a whole lot to show for it. Two additional pages at best. Standing, she took her mug and brought it to the sink to wash. As she cleaned the ceramic cup, her thoughts again wandered back to last night. How long had it been since she had sex? Way too long. More importantly, how long had it been since her last orgasm? It was probably going on a year now. And who was she kidding, her fingers just weren't getting the job done lately.

She dried her hands before running them through her unkempt hair. She was due for a shower, and hoped that maybe it would give her a spark of inspiration in her narrative.

The scalding water on her back was perfect, just this side of too hot; just the way she liked it. Her clothing was strewn about the bathroom floor and her cell phone was sitting on the counter, collecting steam on the screen. It flared to life, its shrill ring making her jump. Who was that? She hadn't been expecting any calls today.

Rey scrambled to turn off the water and draped a fluffy towel around her torso. The phone was nearing its final ring when she reached it and quickly answered breathily, "Hello?"

"Am I speaking with Rey Kenobi?" A deep masculine voice on the other end inquired.

Her heart fluttered at the cadence. There was no way anyone had a right to sound like that.

"Yes, that's me. Who's this?"

"Ben Solo, your new editor," he replied, a hint of mild amusement peeking through.

She gasped, readjusting the phone against her ear. He wasn't supposed to call for another week! "Oh, hi! Uhm, what can I do for you, Ben?" Her chest felt tight. Her book wasn't ready yet and she was an absolute mess.

He gave deep chuckle, one that sounded unnervingly familiar. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm aware we have a meeting scheduled for Friday, however I just wanted to say hello beforehand and to see how your book was coming. I hear it's a delight."

"It's...going. I just have one chapter to finish and then it'll be ready for you to look at." She was nervous. She had been expecting a woman editor instead. The book was fiction, although it was laced with events that had actually happened to her in the past. She had always enjoyed putting little pieces of herself in her short stories and she had felt the need to do the same with her first novel. This time, though, there were things she was uncomfortable sharing with a man she barely knew. Sure, she knew there were bound to be male readers, but she didn't have to speak with them directly and answer any questions they may have. Working with the editor, he would be asking for context on certain details here and there. 

"I look forward to reading it," he said assuredly. "I've read many of your other works and I'll admit I've been eager to work with you."

Her breath hitched and she gave a short, anxious laugh. "Well I hope you enjoy it!"

"I'm quite sure will. I'll call you again on Friday, 11 am. Until then, take care and good luck, Rey," he added and then the line went dead.

"Thanks..." She whispered into the phone. Realizing she was still undressed, she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. Why was she embarrassed? It wasn't like people could see her through the phone. No, she decided. It was most definitely the effect his voice had on her. 

"Ugh," she groaned. "I'm doomed." Was she that desperate that a simple phone call could make her weak in the knees? She wiped the condensation from the mirror and gazed at herself. Her chestnut hair was still wet, laying against her shoulders and her eyes looked lost. The flair of warmth between her legs made her think that yes, she most decidedly was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the season of giving, so here is my gift to you! Chapter 2 is a few days early, with Chapter 3 scheduled to come out Thursday! I hope you all enjoy!

A cry of triumph pierced the air; Rey had finally completed the last sentence. It was done, after all this time and countless cups of tea. Not to mention the sweat and tears. She stood up and danced around her office, beaming brightly. She imagined she looked rather ridiculous, moving around the room in an oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, but who cared? It’s not like anyone was there to make fun of her.

 

Something about her little conversation with Ben the day prior had given her the burst of inspiration she had been looking for. The last thing to do was proofread the final chapter and submit it to him. Now that she thought about it, she didn't have a way to get the manuscript to him. All she had was a phone number; one that she presumed was his personal one. She chewed at her bottom lip, trying to will the anxiety in her bones to subside. She could do this--just call the number. It wasn't hard, right? So why couldn't she seem to make her fingers do it? Maybe because it just seemed silly to call someone just for their email. A simple text would work just as well in that case. She'd be damned if she didn't admit, even to herself, that she wanted to hear that deep timbre again. 

 

“Nope, nope, nope. You do not have the hots for your editor,” she reprimanded herself, decision made. Her phone was sitting on the coffee table in the living room, placed there at some point last night when she had passed out on the couch. 

 

She found the number he had called her from and quickly sent a text, silently praying he was too busy to respond right away:

  
  


**From: Rey, 11:31 am**

_ “Hey, Ben, it’s Rey. I've got the manuscript done, just need somewhere to send it for you to read. :)” _

  
  


She locked the phone and set it on the arm of the couch, almost like it was in time out. Her gaze lingered on it for a moment, but the screen never flared to life. She shot it a glare before turning to go get dressed for the day.

 

Rey slipped into a mint colored sundress that had a classical flower pattern on it, a mix of blushes and ivory. She had texted Finn the night before to let him know her book was going to be finished and wanted to know if he wanted to go have a celebratory dinner with her at a local bar and grill. He'd said yes, as she knew he would. They were basically each other’s only friends, both having grown up in rough conditions. He made her smile, and she loved him for it, but she knew in her heart that his feelings for her were completely different. While she loved him like a brother, she’d seen the the sidelong glances he’d thrown her way, and the reddening of his cheeks when he had tried to hide it. She hoped he would find someone to return those feelings soon. He definitely deserved to love and be loved. 

 

Making her way out of her bedroom while carefully inserting some earrings, she hoped she wasn't overdoing her appearance. There wasn't anything necessarily fancy about her clothing, other than it being extremely flattering to her body. All she needed now were her flats, bag, cell phone, and car keys. She picked up the phone from its spot on the couch and felt her heart skip when she saw the notification LED flashing. She unlocked the device, only to be met with a single line of text:

  
  


**From: Ben, 12:07 pm**

_ "bensolo@randompublishingcompany.com" _ _ _

__

  
  


A grin spread across her face as she read the email address. This was really happening! Her book was about to be published! She flew over to her computer and brought up her own email, clicking her nails against the desk as she waited for the lengthy file to attach.

 

“Come on, come on,” she pled, glancing at the time. She had to be at the restaurant in fifteen minutes. At this rate she'd make it in time for dinner rather than lunch. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, but had only been a few minutes, her email was ready to send. She typed in a quick thank you to Ben for taking the time to read it and to get a hold of her if he had any questions before sending it off.

 

Turning off the monitor, she gathered her items and scurried out of the house.

 

__________________________________________

 

Parking was a nightmare, as it usually was in this part of the city. She ended up having to find a spot nearly a block away and ran as fast as she could to the place where she was going to meet Finn. 

 

As she neared, she could see him standing outside the building, hands hidden in the pockets of his jacket. His eyes found hers through the throng of people and he smiled, waving a hand in greeting. 

 

Breathing hard, she came to a stop by him and gave him a hug, saying, “I’m sorry I'm late, Finn! I had to email my book to my editor so he can get started on it. It took forever for the damn thing to upload.” 

 

He nodded in understanding, then his mouth twitched, “He, huh?”

 

She laughed, “I know, right? I was expecting a woman, but nope. I get to work with a Mr. Ben Solo.”

 

As soon as his name fell from her lips, Finn’s eyes widened and Rey was pretty sure they were about to fall out of his head. “B-Ben Solo?!” he stammered incredulously. 

 

Rey’s smile faded at her friend’s reaction. “Yeah, why? What's wrong with that?” 

 

“The guy’s bad news, Rey,” he hissed, clutching her arm. “I used to work for him. He’s a real asshole.”

 

She raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where on earth he knew Ben from. 

 

Understanding her silent question, he explained, “I was his TA last year in college. He was an English professor; fucking ruthless to the students. You’d have these kids work for so long on their papers and they'd be so proud of them, until they got graded. Most of the ones that got returned were always covered in that stupid red marker of his.”

 

“He didn't sound like an asshole,” she muttered a little defensively, prying his fingers from her arm. Was that what was going to happen to her? Was he going to basically tell her to rewrite the whole thing? God she hoped not. She suddenly didn't want to talk about her book, Ben, or how much of a dick he may be. 

  
“Come on, let’s go eat.” She headed for the restaurant doors, knowing Finn was right behind her. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS. This chapter does mention rape (not vividly, but there are a few details) and is overall a bit angsty. Don't say I didn't warn you. But surprise! Here's another chapter a day early. I really need to stick to my update schedule. I can't help it, though; I get too excited. Happy Thanksgiving!

The interior of the restaurant was classy, upscale but not overtly so. There were lanterns that hung from the ceiling over each table, casting a warm, comforting glow over the patrons already seated. It was strangely intimate, she realized, and vaguely wondered why Finn had suggested this place after she had texted him.

 

He seemed to sense her hesitation and shuffled nervously beside her before going ahead to speak with the hostess. She was a tall woman, made taller by her black heels. Her platinum blonde hair was done into a tasteful bun, and she wore a dark pencil skirt with a matching silk halter top that snuck glimpses of her weighty cleavage when she reached for a few menus. Rey caught Finn’s eye and raised a brow playfully, trying to be subtle in her attempts to say,  _ she’s super pretty, you should try to get to know her. _

 

A slightly panic look crept into his eyes as he rapidly shook his head, trying to keep their silent conversation from being too obvious. Rey rolled her eyes at him and trailed after the woman to their table. 

She sat down, and Finn took a place across from her, looking a little flustered. Rey watched him for a second before picking up her menu and looking over the options. The majority of the dishes didn't sound appealing, but there was one that caught her attention. A large steak, cooked however she wanted it. Her mouth watered at the thought and she set the menu down, mind made up, “Well, I know what I'm getting. How about you?” 

 

“I’m thinking maybe this deluxe burger thing,” he replied, pointing to a picture on the menu. Minutes passed in silence, and the server came to bring drinks and take their orders, flitting away to get them to the kitchen. Finn fell quiet again; something was definitely bothering him. 

 

“Come on, out with it already,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. 

 

His eyes met hers and he seemed to be choosing his words carefully before speaking, “You can't work with Professor Solo...Ben.” 

 

“And why not?”

 

Appearing to get frustrated, he ran his hand over his hair, trying to figure out how to tell her what was on his mind, “He’s got some kind of mystical power, I don't know how to explain. It’s like, he walks into a room and every woman’s eyes get glued to him. Like he's some sort of god.”

 

That threw her. So he was attractive. So what? Why would that bug him so much? Suddenly, it dawned on her and she felt her face slipping into another frown as she answered, “And you think he's going to exert some sort of magic over me.” She shifted in her seat, “I'm only going to be working with him over the phone, Finn. Why does that bother you so much?”

 

“Because I don't want you to want him, okay?!” He snapped, the palm of his hand striking the table. The chatter of the other people in the room suddenly ceased and all eyes turned to them. Much more quietly, he added, not meeting her gaze, “I want you to want me…”

 

Rey’s eyes went wide, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to process his words. “Finn…” she finally said, breath coming out barely more than a strangled whisper. 

 

“No, Rey. Let me finish. I've been wanting to say this for a long time, ever since we met.” He leaned forward, dark eyes intense as he gazed at her. “I like you, a lot, Rey. More than I know I should, and I can't help the way I feel. You're absolutely perfect, beautiful, and your smile lights up the room when you walk in,” he paused, taking another deep breath. “I understand if you don't feel the same way, but please, please, don't go after Ben.” He stood up and walked around the table to her, kneeling and grasping one of her hands in his. “Just think about it, okay? If you ever need to talk, or...anything, you know how to reach me.” He stood up and went to the counter to pay for their drinks. On his way back, he gave her a sad smile and added, “Congratulations on your book, though.” With that, he left the restaurant, leaving Rey to stare at the place he had been. 

 

Her thoughts were scattered, jumping to many different things at once. He was jealous, she realized. Finn was jealous over something that wasn't even happening. Or was it? She remembered the way she had felt after speaking with Ben, how her thighs had grown damp and a thread of warmth had curled low in her stomach. Maybe Ben did hold some unseen power, after all.

 

She gathered her belongings, seeing the LED on her phone was flashing again. She bit her lip, debating on checking it. Deciding against it, seeing as how she had just gotten done telling Finn that he didn’t have any hold over her, she placed the phone into her bag and left. 

 

__________________________________________

 

As soon as she walked through the threshold of her house, she braced herself against the closed door, feeling a pain in her chest. Her friendship with Finn felt broken somehow and she didn't know how to repair it. He had been completely honest with her, and she couldn't even be honest with herself. Her head thumped back against the wood and she groaned, eyes shut. She dropped her bag to the ground and it landed with a gentle thud.

 

She didn't deserve Finn. He was too kind, too genuine, and she felt like a traitor. Should she give him time to cool off, or try and send him a text now? With the way he had left, it seemed like he wanted to be left alone. What was supposed to be a celebration had turned out to be a disaster, and her heart ached for it.

 

She sighed heavily and pushed off the door to go change into some more comfortable clothes. Her eyes went to the place her bag had been discarded and her mind flashed back to the waiting notification. Dropping to her knees, she fished her phone out and flicked the screen on, seeing several messages from a certain someone in question. 

  
  


**From: Ben, 12:42 pm**

 

_ “You have a talent for imagery.” _

  
  


Rey smiled at that, eyes scanning over the words repeatedly, wondering what part he was talking about. The rest of the messages were praising certain passages, asking for clarifying questions about the protagonists’ actions in a way that didn't necessarily relate to an editor’s critiquing. He was asking them like a person that was truly enjoying the book and simply wanted to know more. 

 

Her heart jumped at the idea that someone was as engrossed in her work as he was, and a swell of pride filled her being. 

 

She replied to his questions, giving him the answers he sought that wouldn't be addressed in the novel. There was that stupid grin taking over her face again as they texted back and forth, she noted. 

 

__________________________________________

 

Her good mood was not to last though. Another text came through, and it seemed as though the vibration on her phone was a bit stronger with the demand. 

  
  


**From: Ben, 9:33 pm**

 

_ “Raped?! She was raped?” _

  
  


She could feel his outrage through the pixels and her chest felt heavy. This was not a topic she wanted to talk about right now. Still feeling the grief from earlier, and now this, she briefly wondered if she could just not answer and pretend she fell asleep. This was one of those pieces of herself that Rey had slipped into the story, her own struggles filling the pages with the details. 

 

She closed her eyes and took in a slow, deep breath through her nose. It did nothing to calm her, and as his questions hung in the air unanswered, she could feel panic bubbling up in the back of her head. She remembered the situation, the time a man had violated her, left her for dead in an alley. The feeling of those dirty hands clawing at her skin. 

 

Her eyes prickled, and she suddenly found herself unable to continue their conversation. She picked up her phone and sent back a quick reply, blinking through the wetness in her eyes. 

  
  


**From: Rey, 9:58 pm**

 

_ “Goodnight, Ben.” _

  
  
She tossed the phone aside and headed for the shower, needing to scrub the feeling of _those_ hands from her skin. It had been years now, and still she couldn't get clean. She couldn’t erase the memory, and no amount of soap or scrubbing could scour that shame. As her feet carried her to the bathroom, she ignored the sudden desperate ringing of her phone and closed the door behind her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now who is that mysterious stranger?

When she awoke, her eyes were puffy from crying all night and her head throbbed something fierce. She rolled over on her bed, pulling the comforter more snugly around her shoulders. She had been so cold last night, even with her mountain of at least six different blankets. Her mind was a haze, and she remembered somewhere in there that she had to get up and head to her classes for the day. Couldn't she just take a mental health day? She knew she could, but then her school work would just pile on top of her and she'd drown under the assignments and the stress of upcoming exams.

 

With a heavy sigh, she pulled herself into a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the mattress. The carpet felt rough against the soles of her feet today, uncomforting. Using the palms of her hands, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and glanced around. It had been so long since she had had a breakdown about that night, and she had thought she had moved on.  _ Apparently not _ , she thought grimly, remembering her reaction to Ben’s queries. She glanced around her bedroom, scanning the few pictures she had placed. Most of them were of her and Finn together in various poses, making goofy faces and laughing. As she stared at the photographs, she felt that pang in her chest again and fresh tears threatened her eyes. 

 

She tore her gaze away from the sight and inhaled deeply. She was done crying for today. Pushing all thoughts out of her head, she stumbled out of bed and to the kitchen. Best to get some water heating in the kettle while she went to get dressed. Lord knew she would need it. After taking care of the water, she passed through the living room, glancing around for the phone she had discarded. She spotted it, lying face down on the floor beneath the couch. She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't cracked the screen in her despair. 

 

Reaching down, Rey inspected the screen closely. It didn't look too bad, no more dented or beat up than normal. She exhaled the breath she didn't know she had been holding and her eyes widened when she saw just how many notifications were lighting up her phone. There were four missed calls from Ben and about a dozen texts. “Fuck,” she huffed, browsing through the messages. 

  
  


**_Missed call from Ben, 10:02pm_ **

  
  


**_From: Ben, 10:03 pm_ **

 

_ “Please pick up the phone, Rey.” _

  
  


**_Missed call from Ben, 10:04 pm_ **

  
  


**_From: Ben, 10:09pm_ **

 

_ “Call me back.” _

 

**_“_ ** _ Damn it, Rey!” _

  
  


The rest of the messages were similar, pleading with her to give some sort of response. Guilt twisted in her gut as she scanned over the lines of text. She felt bad to have left him hanging like that, but sometimes she just had to worry about herself and shut everyone else out for a while. It was better that way, not having to depend on anyone. That way, when betrayal came later, it didn't hurt. A lifetime of letdowns had taught her that the hard way.

 

However, he deserved an answer, and as she unlocked the phone, she glanced through her other threads, noticing a distinct lack of anything from Finn. Apparently he still didn't want to be bothered. 

  
  


**From: Rey 8:26 am**

 

_ “Hey there, sorry about last night. I had a rough day yesterday and that topic was just a bit touchy for me. I'm okay, thanks for checking. :)” _

  
  


It was probably better not to go into any details. She didn't want to admit that adding the little smiley face took an extreme amount of effort. Smiling was the absolute last thing she felt like doing.

 

The kettle shrieked, and Rey flipped the switch to turn it off, before making the best cup of tea she had enjoyed in a very long time. Curling her digits around the mug, she settled into the crook of the couch. The warmth seeped into her soul and by the time she was done, she felt marginally better. 

 

It was about time for her to get to class, if she was planning to go. She splashed some water onto her face, hoping it would reduce the redness around her eyes. Her wardrobe for the day consisted of a slightly frilly olive shirt and a pair of denim jeans, nothing too elaborate. She just wanted to be comfortable today. Her cell vibrated in her pocket and she dug it out, swiping a finger across the screen. 

  
  


**From: Ben, 8:35 am**

 

_ “I hope your day goes well for you. I’m lecturing today, so I may be a bit slow to respond to any messages.” _

  
  


He was teaching today? At what university, she wondered. Making her way out of the house, she let her mind wander to the thought of having him as a professor, and vaguely wondered what it took to ace a class that was rumored to be as difficult as his. 

  
  


**From: Rey, 8:37 am**

 

_ “Have fun, Professor. =P”  _

  
  


She teased him, managing a small smirk as she checked the volume on the phone, making sure the phone was now set to be silent. Didn't need any loud distractions coming from the damn thing when she was trying to study. 

 

__________________________________________

 

The campus was large and sprawling, its historic buildings well maintained by the hired landscapers. 

Rey juggled her textbooks, trying to make her way quickly to her first class of the day. The buildings were bustling with students, and she noted that most of them seemed to be carrying some form of drink from the local coffee shop. Did everyone have to be clones of each other? She half-bet they were all drinking the same complicated caffeine-delivery blend, too. Maybe her foul mood was just making her hate everyone at the moment. 

 

The first class was Creative Writing course, which had been a huge help in constructing her novel. The instructor was a large, heavy-set elderly woman that rasped out every word, as though she smoked a pack every day for the past forty years. 

 

The droll of her voice usually comforted Rey, but today she found it to be the most annoying sound in the world. It grated nails on a chalkboard, scratching at a certain point in the back of her head until she felt like she'd go mad. She should have taken that mental health day. 

 

Quietly, not wanting attention to be drawn to her, she slipped out of the classroom, belongings in tow. She shook her head, feeling incredibly stupid for coming here today. She had known today would be a bad day, and yet here she was, not listening to her instincts. 

 

Lost in her own head, she rounded the corner of a building, barrelling straight into a looming figure. Her books went flying, and so did the stranger’s papers and cell phone. She stumbled, but strong hands grasped her shoulders and kept her upright. She lifted her head to see who she had collided with and blinked for a long minute, before her brain started working again. 

 

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” she cried, immediately crouching down to help pick up the dropped items. “Here, let me fix this,” she muttered to herself, gathering his papers into a neat stack. He knelt down beside her, not saying a word as he placed her books atop each other. 

 

She glanced over at him and froze, somehow unable to look away. His long, black hair was covering his eyes as he picked up her items. He was wearing a light blue shirt that had the sleeves rolled up, exposing muscular forearms, and clung to what looked to be an equally impressive body. He wore black slacks, bunching around his thighs as he knelt down on one knee. There were beauty marks scattered across his face, and she found herself drawn to the idea of mapping out constellations among them. Her eyes traced the edge of his cheekbones, down to the plush curve of his mouth, back up over the shape of his nose, to finally settle on his lashes and the burning pools that were framed within. Seeming to sense her gaze, he flicked a look at her, and realizing she had been caught staring, Rey hastily turned back to the papers on the ground. 

 

Once they were neatly placed, she extended them out to the man, limb shaking ever so slightly. Her heart was in her throat, and she wholly blamed this stranger before her. He had some aura rolling off him in waves, a mixture of of irritation and some other emotion she couldn't quite place. Finally, his hand came forth to reclaim his papers, and she had a small flash of recognition. That hand looked achingly familiar, and she instantly knew where from. There was no mistaking the size, and the strength as it had gently trailed across her thighs. Heat gathered in her stomach, and she struggled to stamp it down.

“I--I should get going,” she whispered, reaching over to grab her books from where they sat beside his knee. “I’m sorry again, my mind’s a mess today,” she breathed a nervous laugh, chewing on her bottom lip as she glanced at his face again. She realized her voice was hitching, not sounding anything like her normal self. His eyes were unreadable, watching her, seeming to settle on the way she was worrying at her mouth.

  
She stepped around him, quickly fleeing in the direction she had originally been walking. Rey did not miss the feeling of his attention boring into her back as she went. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh. This one is NSFW. I also really love comments, so keep those coming! That is all.

He knelt there, rooted to the spot as she left him. His eyes bored into her back, willing her to turn around so that he could glimpse her face again. What he wanted most of all, was to pull her back, crush her to him and demand answers. Why did she visit him in his dreams? How did she know him? Why did she torment him with her innocence? _WHY?!_ He hated not knowing, and it was driving him mad. Every night, she came to him. Every night, she taunted him, asking unspoken questions with a pleading gaze.

 

She never spoke in these dreams of his. No, half the time they ended in more...carnal pleasures, the most sound being a sigh through parted lips, or a loud gasp. The other half, he raged, throwing items, breaking others, trying to get a response from her. She always stood there, impassive, simply observing his destruction.

 

Ben didn't know how long she had been visiting him, but he was guessing it was on the better side of a decade. In the beginning, she was a young girl who had liked to snoop through his room, trying on his clothes and playing with toys he no longer cared for. As he grew older, so did she. She went from playing with toys to reading his books, listening to his music. He watched as she changed into a woman, and a lovely one at that. It wasn't until later that the dreams had turned more primal in nature.

 

And now, here she was, in the flesh. How was such a thing even possible? He would have sworn on his life he had never met her before. She was as beautiful cemented in reality as she was in the visions. Even more so, in fact. “Who are you…” he murmured to himself, watching as she hastily disappeared around the corner. He could chase after her; he could question her now, he supposed. Something in his gut warned him against it, and by now he knew not to ignore the feeling.

 

He looked down to the papers in his hand. _Papers she had touched_ , he added mentally. His lecture had gone well, even if he could feel the desperate lust rolling off of the female students. He had learned to tune it out by now. He wasn't sure why they all stared at him like that, to be honest. It had unnerved him at first, but now it was just the way things were. They would gaze at him with those awestruck eyes and a brave few even had the audacity to slip him their phone numbers in between assignments.

 

There was a reason why he wasn't a professor anymore and had moved to editing instead. He didn't have to see the looks, and could work in relative solitude. And then there was Rey, the only person, aside from the woman he saw every night, that he felt drawn to. He knew the sound of her voice, the lilt of her accent as she spoke. And yet, he had no idea what she looked like, nor she him.

 

He retrieved his cell phone from where it had fallen, standing slowly. Glancing at the time on the device, he exhaled heavily. He had to catch a flight back to the office in just under an hour. This lecture had been a courtesy visit to the Dean of the university, a repayment for a favor in previous years. But who was that student? Realizing he had quite possibly missed the only opportunity to learn her name or any other information about her, he cursed under his breath. A pale hand ran through his hair in frustration and he headed quickly to the street, tapping a response to Rey on his way,

  


**From: Ben, 1:47 pm**

 

_“I had forgotten the clueless nature of students. I’m returning to my office now.”_

  


He sent it, then added another, curiosity piquing his interest.

  


**From: Ben, 1:47pm**

 

_“Are you feeling any better?”_

  


He wanted to give her some space after the night she had had, but he was genuinely concerned about her, as well. He hadn’t realized that Rey was the protagonist in the novel until her strange reaction to his fury about the character’s past. It seemed that way, anyway. She had neither confirmed nor denied it, but her actions were loud and clear to him.

 

After several minutes of walking and no vibration of his phone, he tucked it into the pocket of his trousers, coming to the curb of the busy road on the edge of campus. A flag of his hand and a taxi was hailed.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  


She came again that night.

 

He was ready for her, sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His head was bowed, not looking as she emerged from the shadows. He was still dressed from that day, black slacks and a light blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled up.

 

She stepped forward, barefoot, the pads of her feet making no noise amongst the carpet in the dark room. He glanced at her and froze, taking in the sight of her. The only light was from the moon, streaming in through the window, casting a beam across her body as she moved. Her honeyed skin caught that light and turned it around, making it seem as though it were radiating out of her instead.

 

She was fully nude, her pert breasts drawing his eye as she walked, bouncing slightly. He let his gaze drift down, over her navel, the swell of her hips, the mound between them. She was so beautiful, it made his breath hitch in his throat and desire stir deep in his core.

 

She moved and knelt down before him, resting her nimble hands atop his. She peeked up at him through his raven hair, eyes kind. She didn’t speak, as always, and instead drew one of his hands to her mouth, sliding her silken lips across his calloused skin.

 

He watched her, fascinated with the way her mouth moved. He wondered how it would look wrapped around his cock, and a tremor ran along his spine. He could feel himself hardening at the thought, straining against his pants with lust. There was no time for that tonight, though.

 

“Who are you?” he whispered, voice laced with need. Need for her, and a need to know. His hand twisted against her mouth to slide across her cheek, cupping it gently as his gaze burned into hers, searching for any hint of an identity.

 

She didn’t answer, instead closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.

 

His hand slid lower, resting against the side of her neck. He couldn’t stand this, couldn’t take not knowing a second longer. Why wouldn't she  answer?! Just give him a name! His grip closed around her pale flesh and he pushed her back against the floor, hovering over her, his legs on either side of her, keeping her trapped. Her eyes went wide in shock, her lips parting to let a gasp escape, but still, no words came.

 

“Who are you?!” he hissed at her, fury rising up in his being. He had to know. He needed to know or he was going to burn up from the inside. His chest felt as though it was going to burst, an inferno flowing through his veins.

 

The woman looked up at him, but her eyes were lost, as if she didn’t have an answer to his question.

 

Ben growled in frustration and moved his hand from her neck, slipping it to knot in her thick hair instead as he crashed his mouth against hers, one hand on the floor beside her head to help hold his weight. She responded in kind, moving her arms to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

 

She moaned softly into his mouth, and he took it as an invitation, slipping his tongue in to dance along side hers, warring to see who would give in for breath first. She tasted so sweet, like jasmine, filling his senses with her essence. He kissed her as though he would devour her, for he was a starving man and she a feast before him.

 

She broke away first, panting over his shoulder as he moved his way along her jaw, alternating between nipping and licking his way down her neck, not missing the shivers that crawled along her body.

 

He shifted above her, moving to settle between her legs instead so that he could rub himself against her through his clothing, needing to find some sort of release from this hell. Her arms moved from his neck to rest against his chest, pushing him back slightly, fingers fumbling to begin undoing the buttons on his shirt.

 

His hips stayed firmly pressed to hers, grinding roughly, and he could feel how wet she was, soaking into the fabric. He watched her as she worked, eyes feral and dark.

 

He shrugged the shirt off, letting it fall to the side as her hands pulled him back down, sinking into the muscle of his back.

 

“Please,” he begged, claiming her lips again, capturing her bottom one between his teeth and giving a pull. “Please tell me who you are,” his breath came in a harsh whisper as he released her.

 

Her hands slipped in between them, unfastening his pants with surprising efficiency, shoving them down from his hips to free him from the confines.

 

Almost immediately, he pushed the head of himself into her, fighting the resistance of her body. She was slick with need, but she was tight, so, so tight. Her walls clenched around him, preventing him from moving any further until she had adjusted to his size. He shuddered above her, and heard her moan into the crook of his neck, nails digging into his back again, sure to leave a mark.

 

After a moment, she smoothed her fingers down to his backside and pulled him against her, hard.

 

He was only too eager to oblige her. He pulled back, and thrust in again, letting his anger, and desperation loose. Her legs locked around him, clutching him to her, and she keened loudly as he struck that spot inside of her over and over. His palm curved over her breast, kneading it and rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, thoroughly enjoying the way she twitched beneath him.

 

Her hips lifted with each drive of his, meeting him with a ferocity he had not expected. It only served to move him faster, giving her exactly what she seemed to crave. The force of his movements made her back chafe against the carpet, but she didn't seem to mind. If anything, it seemed to spur her on. Even in the throws of passion, he would worship this woman, and if she asked it of him, he would tear the very stars from the sky for her pleasure.

 

He could feel her coming closer to the edge of a cliff, could feel her flexing around him as tremors began to wrack her thighs. In this one instance, he would gladly throw her off of that edge. A ragged groan fell from him against her ear as she became a vice around him, shrieking his name, “Ben!” He heaved himself against her more, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing around the room as he pounded into her through her orgasm. She came again with a sob, drawing blood from his back as she scrambled to find purchase. “Oh! _Ben!_ ” she cried loudly.

 

He couldn't hold back anymore, and as he spilled himself into her, he realized through the haze that he recognized that voice.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  


Rey startled awake, still moaning in bliss, Ben’s name halfway through her lips. Her thighs were soaked with want, and she could still feel him inside her, could still feel evidence of their shared ecstasy slipping out of her and down her backside.

 

She laid there for a few moments, eyes heavy-lidded and felt as the aftershocks coursed through her.

  
As it subsided and she came more to her senses, she whispered, slightly horrified at the intensity, “What the fuck was _that_?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I was typing this chapter up, I saw a commercial for a new movie Domhnall Gleeson (General Hux) has coming out. He plays Mr. McGregor in a children's film called 'Peter Rabbit'. I couldn't get the image of him as General Hux chasing these rabbits out of his garden, so I had to throw something about that in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

The next few days passed by in a blur. Rey’s phone meeting with Ben had gone well; she had been nervous to speak with him after the most recent dream she had. This time, she had been able to see the face of the man perfectly clear; it was the same man she had ran into face-first, and for the life of her she was so confused. She did notice that Ben himself seemed more subdued, and more than once she’d had to repeat a question.

He’d claimed it was because he wasn't sleeping well, but she could tell by the tone in his voice that he was hiding something.  _ He doesn't want to tell me? Fine, not my business anyway, _  she thought to herself as she glanced at the notepad resting on her lap. She had written down some recommendations from him about her book. Things he would change here, the wording of certain sentences there. Overall, by the time they had finished, she had a good stack of corrections to make, but none of them had made her feel like he was being too critical, as Finn had said.

Her mind wandered again to Finn, wondering how he was doing. She still hadn't heard anything from him, and by this point she was betting he was waiting for her to reach out first. She glanced around her office, gaze settling on the far window, and the sky beyond.

The air was charged with electricity, the promise of a storm on the horizon. Even now, she could see the dark clouds rolling in. She’d have to grab the bucket under the kitchen sink and put it in its designated spot soon. The roof leaked in her bedroom, and she hadn't had the time to get it repaired. She’d spent many rainy nights listening to the constant splash of water hitting the bucket as she lulled herself to sleep.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she grabbed her phone and sent a message to Finn on her way to the kitchen.

  
  


**From: Rey, 3:46 pm**

 

_ “Hey...what are you up to?” _

 

_That sounds so lame,_ she thought and shook her head, not really knowing what else to say.

It took a few minutes for his response to come, but when it did, she couldn't help the relief she felt.

  
  
  


**From: Finn, 3:55 pm**

 

_ “At Poe’s” _

_ “Wanna come over?” _

  
  
  


**From: Rey, 3:57 pm**

 

_ “You bet! Be there in thirty” _

  
  


______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


The drive over to Poe’s was quick. He lived on the closer side of town, his house snugged between a few others that looked almost identical. The siding was a pale gray, very neutral compared to others. He was the third leg of their friendship, and Rey would daresay that the bromance between the two men was enough to make some people believe it was more than platonic.

She knocked on the door, and it opened to reveal Poe, dressed in a plain T-shirt and jeans, his hair slightly dishevelled. He beamed at Rey, ushering her inside. Once the door was closed, he slung an arm around her shoulders and led her to the living room, chatting in his easy way about how long it had been since he had seen her last. The sounds of shots being fired filled the room, the surround sound turned up so loud that at first Rey thought they were actually being attacked. Finn cursed loudly and she glanced around the corner to see a controller in his hands, eyes glued to the screen. There were empty beer bottles spread across the coffee table, and the rumple of blankets on the couch suggested that he had stayed the night.

“Hey there,” she greeted, moving to sit beside him as her eyes traced the movements of his character. Poe took up his other side, spreading one arm across the back of the couch as he sprawled his legs out.

“Hey,” he grunted, turning to flash her a brief smile before settling back to finish his match. He seemed to be okay, with only a little bit of awkwardness in between them. She brushed it aside though and slid a glance to Poe, who was watching Finn’s profile with a look in his eyes that she could only describe as affection.

It clicked then, and her eyes widened. Poe’s eyes slid over to hers and she raised an eyebrow, giving a slight nod to Finn. A flush crept up into his cheeks and he turned his head away, but not before she could see the smile that touched his mouth.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit longer, until Finn set the controller down and settled back against the couch, placing his hands on both Rey and Poe’s legs. “You guys are the best,” he said, words slurring ever so slightly.

“Are you still drunk?” she asked playfully, knowing he was. She could still smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I might be,” he laughed.

Poe clapped him on the shoulder, adding, “I don't think I've seen you drink that much since our last semester, right before final exams.”

“Hey, that was a great reason to drink! I think we still have some pictures somewhere, right?” Finn patted both of their legs before standing and shuffling over to a bookcase in the corner of the room. He plucked a photo album off the shelf and began to flip through the pages, finding a bunch of images of he and Poe at a party. Bringing the album back to the couch, he took up his seat again and laid the book on his lap so they all could see.

“Is that a toga?” Rey asked, trying to stifle the laughter that threatened to overtake her as she studied the pictures.

“Hey, that was the fashion trend at the time!” Poe piped up defensively. “Well, I mean, the fashion trend for a college frat party.”

Shaking her head, she browsed through other photos. Some of them were of both men with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders, their other hands extended, showing off a bottle of beer.

Those two were something else.

As she turned the page, her eyes settled on a particular image. To be more precise, a particular person in an image. His black hair was smoothed away from his face, his skin starkly pale in the fluorescent lighting of a classroom. He sat at his desk, eyes impassive, looking in the direction of the camera, as though he had just glanced up when the photo had been taken. The other people in the image were a blur, unimportant. 

“Who is that?” she asked quietly, finger pointing to the man.

“Oh God, not you too?” Poe groaned.

Finn stayed quiet a moment, before finally saying, “That’s Professor Solo.”

 

___________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Ben hated that Rey could pick up on his emotions, and he couldn't even tell her the real reason behind them. There was nothing quite like saying he had been dreaming about her for years. Sexual dreams, at that. Or that he was on a mission to make her his.

As he looked back to when she had bumped into him, he cursed himself. She had been so damn close, and he had let her slip away from him. Now that he knew who she was, he wasn’t going to let that happen again. They were working together, through some twist of fate, it seemed. Ben hadn't known who she was when he had accepted the job. He had just happened to come across a few of her published short stories and had enjoyed them.

He was currently sitting in his office, on the other side of the country from her, typing at his computer, when a loud boom came from outside the window, echoing against the trees.  _ What the hell…? _

He got up from his chair and went to investigate. There was a redhead man, tall and lithe, creeping through the bushes that decorated the landscape. He was holding what appeared to be a rifle, and was clearly doing his best not to be spotted. By who, Ben couldn't have guessed. What on Earth was he doing here on company property with a gun? Ben knew the man didn't live too far from  their workplace, but why he had a gun in public was beyond comprehension. He opened the window and called out, irritation in his voice, “Armitage, what in God’s name are you doing?”

The redhead’s eyes never left the ground, scanning for something. His tone was cold and calculating as always, “There are rabbits, Ren. _  Rabbits! _  These vile creatures are destroying my garden! They need to be destroyed!"

Raising an eyebrow, Ben tilted his head to the side and settled against the window frame. “And you think...a rifle is the best way to get them to leave?”

“I don't want them to leave! I want them dead! Gone, beyond all existence!” His icy blue eyes glanced up to Ben, flashing with their passion.

When Hux was in a mood, it was probably just best to let the man carry on. “I see,” Ben said, trying to hide his smile. “At least don't shoot any people, all right? I hear murder carries the death penalty here.”

"Yes, yes, I understand," Hux said hastily, eyes intensely boring into the bushes, clearly not listening.

With a sigh, Ben closed the window and went back to his computer to resume his work, throwing a wistful look over at his phone every so often.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of unhappy with this chapter, admittedly. I couldn't figure out what to change about it, though. I hope you all enjoy~

Rey felt like she couldn't breathe. That man was Ben? The stranger from her dreams had actually been him? She had thought it was just one giant coincidence. That the first time had just been some random person she had conjured up, and that the second time had simply been her assigning a name she knew to a random face she had seen.

 

She had never been more wrong or so absolutely confused in her entire life. There was just one thing she wanted to check on first before she even tried to figure out how to go from here. Not that she didn't trust Finn and Poe, but she had to see evidence for herself. 

 

Rey forced herself to hang out for a little bit longer since it had been a while, but she was antsy, her mind distracted. When she finally made up an excuse, Poe nodded, seemingly able to sense that something was on her mind. Finn hugged her goodbye, but didn't say anything else, otherwise. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Rushing home, she dumped her belongings onto the couch and headed straight to her computer. She had to see, she told herself. Deep in her stomach, she knew the guys weren't lying to her. 

 

She did a quick search of the university Finn and Poe had attended and found the directory that listed all faculty and staff, past and present. 

 

And there it was. 

 

A single photo hidden among other professors of similar last names. 

 

Benjamin Solo. 

 

She stared at the image, filing away every detail. He was smiling in the photo, but it didn't reach his eyes.  _ Typical of picture day, _ she mused. It was unmistakably him, though. She recognized those freckles and beauty marks, the intensity of those eyes. 

 

Her breath caught and her world spun for a few minutes as she tried to process this new information. So she really was dreaming about a real man named Ben Solo, who she had run into by accident and also just so happened to be her editor. 

 

It seemed suspicious to her, honestly. Maybe he was a stalker that was trying to make it seem like one giant coincidence to have met? God, her brain was starting to hurt from thinking about it too much. 

 

Maybe she would just ask him directly. She had no idea how to initiate a conversation such as this, but there wasn't really a smooth way to do it. She grabbed her phone, and tapped out a message.

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “Do you ever have dreams about a specific thing?” _

  
  


She chewed her lip nervously as she stared at the screen. There was a little icon next to the message that indicated it had been seen, but there was no response being typed out yet.

 

Suddenly, she felt very silly and wished there was a way that she could take back that text. Just as she was about to type out an excuse, saying she had sent that to the wrong number, she saw that he was typing. 

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Yes, I do. Why do you ask?” _

  
  


Rey scanned the text, trying to see if there was some deeper meaning embedded within the words. 

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “Just wondering if I'm crazy, is all.” _

 

_ “Are your dreams about a thing that happened or a person?” _

  
  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Is everything all right?” _

  
  


She didn't miss the way he completely dodged the question. 

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “Yes, everything is fine!” _

 

_ “Actually, I'm not sure. I feel like I'm going insane. I keep having these dreams that make no sense and I'd just like to see if I can figure out why.” _

  
  


His response was slower again, and she felt like she was going to throw up from nerves. He probably thought she was a freak. She headed to the kitchen to try and make some food, hoping it would settle her stomach. 

 

She set the phone aside while she worked on dinner. Tonight was going to be some mushroom-filled pasta and a to-die-for alfredo sauce. 

 

As she worked, straining the pasta, the phone vibrated against the counter and she leaned over to glimpse the text before the screen flickered off.

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “What are the dreams about?” _

  
  


_Ah shit,_ she groaned. She had not wanted him to ask that. Even now, she could feel the heat creeping into her face, and he wasn't even in the same room! 

 

She wiped her hands on a towel and grabbed the phone. She must have typed out a response and then erased it ten different times before she finally sent one, embarrassment be damned.

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “They're about doing...things with a specific person. At first I didn't know who, but I recently just found out, and I'm trying to figure out what it all means.” _

  
  


The food was delicious, and she all but shoveled it into her mouth while waiting for his response. She was feeling bold tonight, even if she was a bit anxious. Something about this was thrilling, almost as though she was trying to catch him in a lie. She was was expecting his next question, but even being prepared didn't stop the rush of adrenaline that pumped through her at the words. 

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Who is it you're dreaming about?” _

  
  


She smiled faintly to herself, butterflies kicking around in her stomach. She was so terrified to admit this to him, but the conversation was in progress and there wasn't really any turning back now. 

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “You. The dreams are about having sex with you.” _

  
  


_____________________________________________________________________________

  
  


Ben’s phone flared to life in his hand, too invested in this back and forth with Rey to set it down. He glanced down as he walked out to his car, about to head home. He’d been thoroughly surprised when Rey had mentioned any dreams in the first place, and as he saw the words of her most recent message, his heart about jumped out of his chest, and he had the sudden urge to readjust his slacks into a more comfortable position. 

 

So he wasn't the only one with dreams then. Did that mean that she was experiencing the same dream at the same time he was? Or just that she was having her own version? He’d have to test that theory later. 

 

He took a moment to compose himself, feeling a bit lost with the events that had come to pass. Just because she had mentioned the dreams didn't mean she felt anywhere near the same way he did, or if she even enjoyed them. For all he knew these dreams could be a nuisance to her.

 

He frowned faintly as he tapped a message back to her, realizing that for the first time in a long while, he was actually frightened that a woman was going to turn him down.

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Interesting. I've been having the same type of dream, myself. Did you enjoy them?” _

  
  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “Oh yes. I'm sort of hoping that I'll have another soon.” _

  
  


“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, trying to wake up from this dream. There was no way Rey was really sending him these messages right now. Absolutely no way. 

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Show me.” _

  
  


He had to get home right this second. He had a feeling things were about to get exceedingly interesting, and he really didn't want to be driving during it. 

 

He slipped into the flow of cars easily enough, disobeying quite a few traffic laws in his haste. The vibration of the phone alerted him to her reply, and he risked a glance at it as he edged onto the highway, nearly swerving into oncoming cars at what he saw.

 

There was an image attachment, and while he was unable to thoroughly examine it, there was no mistaking the sight of smooth flesh of a taut stomach, and slender fingers drifting from her navel to the waistband of what appeared to be some very lacy undergarments. 

 

“Christ,” he groaned, having to turn off the screen and place the phone onto the leather seat beside him. His heart was hammering against his chest, threatening to break free, and his cock was straining rather uncomfortably against his pants. He drove in silence for a moment, trying to think past the rush of desire that she had stirred in him. 

 

Unable to control himself, he snatched the phone back and quickly found her contact icon as he edged off onto the road to his house. 

 

She picked up on the second ring, seemingly waiting. 

“Hello?” Her voice purred through the phone, almost lazily, and he could hear the cat-like smirk. 

 

“That wasn't fair,” he growled, as he parked in the driveway. “Tell me, sweetheart, do you want me to fly over there right now and fuck you?” He was halfway across the country, but she only had to say the word.

 

He headed to the door, thankful he had no neighbors and as he unlocked it and stepped inside, he almost missed her faint whisper of, “Yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm sorry this update took a lot longer than previous chapters. I was honestly feeling pretty bummed out about this story, but I think we're back on track now! Thank you to everyone that's still reading. Your support really helps writers everywhere. Please leave a comment if you're enjoying (comments are like a feast to a starving man).  
> I'd also like to thank my fabulous friend LadyLionhart for her endless support and encouragement, and for being my beta reader. <3  
> If you guys are enjoying this story, please check out her works! I highly recommend "Ashes of Eden" and "Kismet". You can find them [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLionhart/pseuds/LadyLionhart/works).

Rey’s eyes fluttered open to the morning light streaming in through the window, falling across her bed, and the muted sound of birds singing outside. She felt refreshed, and admittedly, better than she had in a long while. Had it all been a dream? Another glorious, sensual vision? She lifted a hand and rubbed it across her eyes, trying to chase away the remnants of sleep.

 

She glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Her arm stretched across the bed and was met only with the touch of cool sheets. Had she really believed he would be there? Part of her had hoped he would.

 

A pang of disappointment rippled through her at the realization. Rifling through the blankets and sheets, she tried to find her phone, needing reassurance that the events of the night before actually did transpire. She found it, tucked under her pillow, dangerously close to slipping into the crevice between the mattress and the wall. The battery was nearly dead with use, which she took as a good indication that it wasn't just wishful thinking. 

 

She plugged it into the charger next to the bed and scrolled back to the beginning of the conversation, rereading everything. Her eyes scanned the pixels, anticipation building in her stomach, when the conversation suddenly stopped, ending with the picture she had sent. She didn't know when she had gotten so bold.

 

He’d called her at that point, and his voice from there had enticed one of the better climaxes from her body. She recalled the way his own tone had grown deeper, and she could hear him frantically stroking himself as he spoke, promising to worship her body in whatever way she needed when they finally met. He’d guided her to that cliff that she had only been able to get to with his presence, her fingers moving skillfully between her thighs. She’d whimpered into the phone just how she wished it were other things down there instead. The groan that admission had elicited had made the spring low in her being snap, and she’d gasped his name as she saw stars. He’d followed not long after that, a shaky grunt, followed by heavy breathing from them both as they had laid there in silence, listening to the other. 

 

He’d asked for her address after that, and had vowed to be on a plane sometime soon. She didn't know how soon that would be, but the promise itself had been enough for the night. As both of them had settled into their respective beds for the evening, they had begun to speak of other things. She asked about his family, which he’d been unwilling to talk about.

 

She sensed there was a lot of drama around that topic, one she hoped he would eventually open up about. When had she started caring?

 

He’d inquired about her favorite movies, and what she liked to eat.

 

She listened to him go on a rant about a man he worked with named Hux. The man, even though he was an important member of the publishing firm, was certifiably batshit crazy, Ben had said. She laughed at the story about his hunt for rabbits, agreeing that Hux needed mental help. Her eyes had drifted closed, with Ben still murmuring in her ear, a smile lingering on her lips. 

 

Her last thought that she remembered before slipping into a dreamless sleep was that she wouldn't mind listening to him every night for the foreseeable future. 

 

Was this what it felt like to have someone care about you? She couldn't really call it love, since they knew barely anything about the other, but there was some sort of connection between them, that it seemed the stars themselves had written. How else could she explain the dreams about a man she had never met before? She couldn't, and neither could he. She hadn't asked how long he’d had them, thinking she could save it for another time. At that point, it was just the two of them and the melodic dance of his voice in her ear.

 

Coming back to the present, she slowly sat up in the bed, pulling the blankets closer to her to keep the warmth. Soon enough she would have to turn the heater on at night in the house. 

 

Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see who it was. 

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “Good morning. Sleep well?” _

  
  


Her heart fluttered, the wings of a bird against her ribcage. It was funny how one gesture as small as a simple greeting could make her feel as though she was drifting amongst the clouds. 

 

Her hand covered her mouth and she suddenly felt the urge to cry. Not from sorrow, for once, but from sheer happiness. She’d never gotten a good morning text before; not even from Finn or Poe, though admittedly, they were usually passed out until noon, waking much later in the day than Rey did.

 

She’d always been a morning person. It was hard not to be while in a foster home. Most of the families she had lived with had been all right, but there were a few that had been awful, and she couldn't sleep past a certain time for fear of being harmed. Why didn’t this strange man scare her, though? She knew all about danger, and by all accounts, every warning bell in her head should have been going off. She liked to think that she had a good eye for the character in a person, and while she could sense Ben was a tormented soul, she couldn't help but trust him inexplicably. 

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “I did, thank you. What about you? Any pesky dreams keeping you up?” _

  
  


She climbed out of bed, heading to go take her morning shower, needing the scalding water to whisk away the sweat that had dried to her skin from the night before. Even now, as she scrubbed her skin, she could feel the stirring of want deep in her core. Her fingers, combined with his voice had been great, but it didn't fully sate her yearning. She wanted  _him_ , not the ghost of him. 

 

It was at that moment, she realized she was well and truly screwed. She'd fallen under Ben Solo’s spell, and she hadn't even tried to resist. If anything, she had run full tilt into it, praying there was someone on the other side waiting to catch her. 

 

As she stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around her, she read his most recent message. 

  
  


**From: Ben**

 

_ “I slept remarkably well. I'm fairly sure I have you to thank for that.” _

  
  


Rey felt a blush creeping up the back of her neck, a giddy grin lifting her lips. 

  
  


**From: Rey**

 

_ “Well that's great!” _

  
  


She fidgeted uncomfortably, wanting to ask more about last night. It suddenly seemed like now wasn't a good time to bring up the words he had spoken the night before. Promises that probably had only held weight in the heat of the moment, forgotten or avoided the next morning. Her feet carried her deftly back to the bedroom to find some clothing.

 

She tried to explain the pain in her chest she felt at the thought, and couldn't. When had she begun to care?  _ Why? _

 

She knew next to nothing about Ben Solo.

 

A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand showed it was time for her to get to class. She'd had her mental health day, and now it was time to get back to the monotonous routine of sitting through lectures, taking notes, and writing papers she would never look at again once the assignment was completed. 

 

With a sigh, she sent Ben another message, letting him know she would check in with him throughout the day between classes. 

 

The screen indicated that he had seen the message, but there was no reply. 

 

Rey stared at it a moment longer, willing something to appear, before turning the screen off and slipping the phone into her pocket. 

 

She was lost in thought as she locked up and headed to her old car that sat in the driveway. It was beat up, but reliable. She'd never worried about if it would start up on her or not and if she ever got into a collision, she feared more for the other car. 

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

“Ren,” came the cold voice, and Ben lifted his head from the stack of manuscripts before him just in time to see Hux slipping into his office, clicking the door closed behind him. 

 

“Armitage,” he greeted, inclining his head and sitting back in his chair, drumming his red pen against the mahogany wood of his desk. “What do you want?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice as he eyed the red-head. He took in the pale man, eyes flickering over that bright hair, down to those glacial blue eyes. He’d never seen eyes so cold before Hux. That being said, the man never stepped foot into Ben’s office unless he wanted something. He was a strict, calculating thing. Idly, Ben wondered if he ever took the stick out of his ass and relaxed. His posture was stiff, his back always ramrod straight. 

 

“Your mother is looking for you,” Hux snipped, lips pulled back in an expression resembling a mixture of a sneer and a grimace. 

 

Ben froze, feeling that same old spark of anger rising at the mention of his mother. His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. “And what does she want?”

 

One of Hux’s ginger eyebrows rose, taking in Ben’s sudden shift in attitude. This was the man he had grown up with, the one with anger issues. Not the calm, collected one he had been portraying for the better part of the last two years. Hux was of the mindset that people themselves never truly changed, only their behaviors and actions. “I’ve no idea, honestly,” he clipped, the words concise and enunciated with care. “Shall I send her in?”

 

Ben’s eyes snapped to Hux, eyebrows lifting nearly to his hairline. “She’s  _ here? _ ” He hissed, rising from the chair to his full height. Hux was only an inch or so shorter, but in that moment, he towered over the man, his rage filling the room. It was a nearly tangible thing, his rage. It had been so long since he had felt it, and it still rose to greet him like an old friend.

 

Hux gave a curt nod, his tongue slipping out to sweep over his bottom lip almost nervously. He had been on the receiving end of Ben’s rage a few times before, and the memory was not quick to leave him.

 

Running a hand through his hair, Ben took a deep breath to compose himself before storming past the red-head and out into the corridor beyond. 

 

__________________________________________________________________________

 

Leia Organa was seated in the waiting room, slumped into a chair that looked entirely uncomfortable for a woman of her age. She was curled in on herself, wrinkled hands clasped in her lap as she stared down at them, twisting the wedding band that adorned her ring finger.

 

Her son rounded the corner, hands clenched into fists, thoroughly ready to tell her to leave. As soon as he took in the sight of his mother, he came to a halt. She looked so much  _ older  _ than he remembered. When was the last time he had seen her? It had been several long years, and while she was still a beautiful woman, her face was graced with age. There were wrinkles around her mouth, and heavy crows feet at the corners of her eyes. Her hair was loose around her face and heavily streaked with silver.

 

Her head lifted to look at him, and suddenly his anger dissipated in an instant. She had been crying recently, her eyes red-rimmed and slightly puffy. 

 

“...Mom?” he asked, voice quiet. He took a few long strides and dropped into a crouch before her. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

 

As he met her gaze, he was again struck by how much she had changed since he had last seen her. She no longer exuded the strength of the politician she had once been. Her eyes were lost, defeated. She took in a shaky breath and seemed to compose herself slightly before she answered, voice thick and worn, “Ben...it’s your father. Han passed away this morning from a heart attack.”

 

He stared at her for a long moment, stunned. The words slowly sunk in, and he felt them bouncing around in his head like a mantra.

 

_ It’s your father. _

 

_ Han passed away. _

 

_ Heart attack. _

 

His relationship with Han had always been rough, and he refused to speak with him after their fallout. Han had never understood him, and had shipped him off to boarding school the first chance he had gotten.

 

Part of that incident was why Ben had barely spoken to Leia since. She had sided with her husband, saying that Ben had needed more structure in his life. Ben had ways felt as though his parents had chosen each other over their only son, when he needed their guidance the most. His mother had always been focused on her career, leaving him with a nanny in his younger years, and his thoughts as he grew older. His father had been out doing God knows what. Most likely getting drunk and feeling sorry for himself. 

 

Shaking himself from the memories, his gaze fixed on the ring on Leia’s finger. It was a beautiful thing, golden and intricate, several smaller diamonds inset around a larger one.

 

“The funeral still needs planning,” she continued, following his line of sight down to her finger. “Would you like to help?”

 

For a moment, he seriously considered saying no. To just say it, and then leave. One glance at her face, and he felt his heart constrict. She was still his mother, and she was obviously in pain. Slowly, he reached out and took one of her frail hands between his larger ones and gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Of course,” he murmured. “Whatever you need.”

 

She released a heavy sigh of relief and a sad smile touched her lips. Leaning forward, she withdrew her hand from his and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, giving him a tight hug. “Thank you,” she breathed against the top of his head.

 

Ben simply nodded against her, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin and perfume. A sudden thought hit him, and he wondered how much time he had left with the woman that held him. His arms lifted and wrapped around her frame, and before he knew it, the words slipped out in a whisper. “I love you, Mom.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE GOOD NEWS. The next chapter is going to be the sad and fun chapter so many of you have been waiting for. And it'll come quickly, too, because my body has been so fucking ready for this moment.

In the next few days that passed, Ben hardly had time to speak to Rey. He’d managed to send her a text here and there, briefly explaining his absence. Most of his time was spent comforting his mother and going over the funeral details. At this very moment, he was standing next to Leia as she perused through a catalog of flower arrangements, asking for his opinion on this color, and if he thought it was something Han would’ve picked out himself. 

 

“Mom, you know he wouldn’t have picked any of these,” he found himself saying, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He probably would have asked for some whiskey bottles to stick in the casket to take with.”

 

Leia turned hard eyes to him, her expression one of barely contained fury. “Benjamin Solo, I am just about up to here with your shit. If you can’t show any respect toward your father, even in death, then just keep your mouth shut.”

 

Glowering at her small form as she bent back over the flower options, he shook his head before shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks and storming off. He needed to get something to drink if he was going to be able to make it through this funeral. 

 

The viewing was set for Friday, inside an old church they had gotten married in. A sudden image of Rey standing at his side during it flew into his mind. Honestly, it wasn't a horrible idea. It would allow him to finally be able to see her, to touch her; and not through some accidental meeting this time. It would be the weekend, so she shouldn't have any classes, either. 

 

He could book a hotel room for her, or he could take her home with him to spend the night. He'd sleep on the couch and give her his bed, of course. He was eager to see her, but he didn't want to overwhelm her with too much too soon. They were still getting to know each other, and he almost felt that asking her to come out here was asking too much already. 

 

Only one way to find out. 

 

Pulling his cell phone out of his suit pocket, he found her contact and dialed. Lifting it to his ear as he stepped outside into the cool air, he took a calming breath to soothe his nerves.

 

She answered on the third ring, voice breathy as she spoke, “Ben?” She sounded like she had been running a marathon.

 

“Rey,” he smiled, shifting his gaze to stare at his shiny black dress shoes as he paced. “How would you like to come to Corellia this weekend? My treat.”

 

___________________________________________________________________________

 

Rey was a hurricane as she swept through her house, gathering clothing items that were strewn over various chairs and on the floor. She gave them the sniff test as she walked, trying to decide what could wait to be washed. Making a face at some of her findings, she chucked them into the hamper as she flew by. 

 

She was really going to do this. She was seriously going to go visit Ben this weekend on the other side of the country. And for a funeral, no less. He'd convinced her to let him pay for her ticket and a hotel room. 

 

She'd tried to put up a fight, she really had, but he had been so damned charming and persuasive. And now, here she was, packing her suitcase and trying her hardest to clean before she left. Her heart kept trying to beat out of her chest in anticipation. She had so many questions she wanted answers to. The dreams, mainly. What did they mean, and why did they start occurring? When had they started for him?

 

Whirling through the bathroom, she grabbed her tooth and hair brushes, throwing them into a little travel bag. The plan was to stay for the entire weekend, and return on Monday, a day she didn't have any classes. 

 

She'd grabbed her best black dress, one that was modest enough for a funeral, along with some spare undergarments and a few changes of clothes. Her favorite worn T-shirt got added to the stack of clothing as well, intended to be used as a sleep shirt.

 

Biting her lip, she wondered if it was worth it to pack some of her more revealing bras and thongs. What was going to happen between her and Ben? Surely he wouldn't feel like doing anything remotely sexual after attending his father’s funeral, right? 

 

She stood there for a good five minutes, mentally weighing the pros and cons of bringing them. What the hell; if he wasn't up for it, then she'd be the only one to know, right?

 

Her flight was first thing tomorrow morning, so she still had some time to mull it over, but she still threw some into the case in the meantime. 

 

Finn and Poe were going to be checking in on her place while she was gone, making sure nothing went wrong, such as a fire or a break in. If she was honest with herself, she was more nervous about flying than she was about leaving for the weekend. 

 

She already knew she wouldn't be sleeping much that night, so no use worrying about that on top of everything else.

 

__________________________________________________________________________

 

Friday morning, Ben stood in the airport, checking the flight displays for Rey’s plane. It was scheduled to touch down any moment now, and he couldn't help but run his hand through his hair every now and then while he waited.

 

He felt like a schoolboy again, his stomach doing nervous somersaults. She was really on her way; he could hardly believe it. When he'd called her, she had tried to give some bullshit excuse about how she could pay for her own flight and hotel, but he wouldn't hear it. While he admired her stubbornness, he'd simply pointed out that it would make him very happy to take care of her. 

 

For probably the hundredth time, he pulled his phone out and flicked on the screen to check the time. Any minute now. 

 

He lifted his head back to the display just in time to see the status of her flight slide over to say  _ landed.  _ A voice came over the intercom system confirming the text, and suddenly his heart was thundering, its pace doubled. 

 

A few minutes passed and he scanned through the crowds of people, searching for any hint of someone with brown hair and honeyed skin.

 

Feeling the sudden sensation of eyes boring into him, he turned--

 

_ And there she was. _

 

His breath caught, his feet carrying him to her. She was dressed in some simple jeans, a brown dressy shirt, and an olive green jacket to cover it. A shy smile graced her lips as she tugged her suitcase behind her, rolling it along the white tile.

 

Everyone else in the building blurred away, and it was just the two of them, striding closer like two singularities on a collision course. As they approached one another, he could see the pink tint to her cheeks, the uncertainty in her beautiful hazel eyes. Oh, how he wished he could soothe her fears. This weekend was going to be wonderful, funeral aside. 

 

She came to a stop before him, trailing her eyes over his body before meeting his eyes again. She bit her lip, and he found himself watching the way her teeth rolled over it, wishing he could replace them with his own.

 

Instead, he moved closer until they were nearly touching and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close to his chest and burying his face against her hair. She smelled exactly how she tasted in his dreams--like jasmine. Exotic and floral. Gods, she was perfect.

 

She dropped her hold on the luggage and wrapped her slender hands around his waist, holding him tightly in return.

 

“I almost didn't think you'd actually come,” he murmured against her head, feeling complete for the first time in his life. It was different, dreaming about someone for so long and finally holding her in his arms.

 

She let out a laugh, and it was pure music to his ears. Pulling back, she looked up at him and playfully swatted his chest as she replied, “Yes, well,  _ someone _ managed to convince me with offers of a hotel room this weekend, along with dinner dates. Who am I to turn that down?”

 

Grinning down at her, he shook his head, loving her snarky attitude. She stepped away from him and he reached down to take hold of her luggage, other hand lifting to extend out to her.

 

As she slipped her hand into his, he gave it a reassuring squeeze before leading her through the throng of people, using his body to create a path for them. 

 

Reaching his vehicle in the parking lot--a silver SUV with all the upgrades--he placed her bag in the trunk before going around to the passenger side door to open it for Rey. She climbed in, and he closed the door with a soft  _ thud. _

 

Slipping his seatbelt on, he looked over to Rey and offered a gentle smile. “So, where to?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to be an epilogue, but rest assured, it will answer any questions that weren't in previous chapters. As well the smut. ;)
> 
> I have no ETA as of right now since I'm working on my other fic.

Rey sat in Ben’s luxurious car with her hands resolutely settled on her lap, staring out the window as the city passed them by. She was feeling shy, afraid to touch anything in this car that had to cost as much as her entire tuition at school. Every now and then, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ben sliding glances at her, his large hand wrapped around the gear shift on the console in the space between them.

 

She couldn't help herself; every few minutes, she'd look down at his hand. That hand she'd dreamt about, touching her in a way that made her squeeze her thighs together and quickly look back out the window. They still had to have a conversation about those dreams, to try and figure out how they started, and why. 

 

She wasn't stupid. She knew he was keeping his hand there in case she felt like slipping hers into it. It was tempting, too, if she was honest. His hand had been warm and soothing as they'd left the airport. Maybe that was why she was so conflicted. She had been convinced that she'd wanted this. Wanted to get to know him better. Now that he was here, she was astutely aware of their age differences and she felt like a child in his presence. 

 

That and he was her  _ editor. _ It was supposed to be a working relationship, not an emotional or physical one. Surely, this was crossing a line somewhere. 

 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, his deep voice filling the car. “I can practically hear your thoughts churning.”

 

Jumping a little at the sudden sound, she looked over at him, his deep brown eyes holding hers for a moment before flicking back to the road. “Yeah, I'm just…” she trailed off, trying to figure how to describe what she was feeling. “I’m just overwhelmed, I think.” His face fell a little at that and she quickly added, “I don't regret coming out here or anything, please don't think that.”

 

She took his hand in her own and held it tightly in her lap, squeezing it reassuringly. “I’m just not good at whatever...this is. I mean, I haven't ever done this sort of thing before, and I'm confused with the dreams, and you, and I’m just trying to make sense of it all.”

 

He was quiet for a long moment, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully as he pulled into the parking of a diner. As the car came to a stop in a place and he shifted it into park, he turned his body to look at her more easily. “Rey…” he began, pausing before taking a deep breath. “I know how you must feel, and I'm sorry if I'm a bit overzealous. I feel as though I've known you my entire life.”

 

As he spoke, she felt captivated by how earnest his eyes were as he continued, “I've literally been having dreams about you for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was a boy. You'd come to my room every night, and it was like watching my soulmate grow up before my very eyes. You never said a word, but there was some...emotion radiating off of you. Loneliness, I think.” His gaze dropped down to where she was still clutching at his hand and a brief smile touched his lips, drawing her eyes to them. “I just, I don't know how to describe it. You would play with my toys, read my books, and sleep in my bed. It wasn't until the more recent dreams that it clicked into place for me; the universe was trying to tell me something, dangling you in front of me like this pendulum.” His thumb traced a pattern on the back of her hand as he glanced back up at her. “I'll try to take it easy from now on--I’m sorry.”

 

She was still staring at his mouth, she realized, heat creeping up her neck. His lips were so plush and soft looking, absolutely made for kissing. She wondered how they would feel against hers, if it would be better in real life versus some dream conjured by the cosmos.

 

“Don't be sorry,” she breathed, leaning closer. “I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.” She realized the words were true as soon as they left her. She did want this, in spite of everything morally wrong with the situation. Withdrawing her hand from his to cup the side of his face instead, she drew him down and kissed him gently. He froze under her touch, his lips unmoving.

 

Thinking she had perhaps crossed a line, she started to pull back, only to be stopped by his palm on the back of her neck, their breath mingling in the barest of spaces between them. “Don't,” he whispered against her mouth, pulling her back to him as he pushed his lips to hers again. It was gentle, almost hesitant, but she felt his longing lingering in the way he moved his hand from the back of her neck to her cheek, his touch a caress over her heated skin. 

 

It was better than any dream, she thought hazily. All too soon, he pulled away, instead opting to lean his forehead against hers. Rey slowly let her eyes open, only to find his deep brown ones already staring back at her. “Lunch?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling. 

 

Biting her lip, she nodded, still able to taste him. Yeah, lunch would be good. They got out of the car and as they walked inside, he took her hand in his own again, thumb rubbing circles against the back of it. 

 

Once seated, Rey picked up the menu and glanced over it, trying to decide on what sounded good. There was an option for grilled cheese, with about five different cheeses on it calling her name. 

 

Ben ordered a milkshake for each of them, shooting her a look when she tried to make some excuse about price. “Rey, I'll take care of it,” he told her, his voice stern, holding no room for argument. 

 

They ate in silence when the food came, their knees touching underneath the table. God, he really was huge. Or maybe the table was just really small.

 

With the funeral in a couple of hours, they had some time to kill before he dropped her at the hotel he'd booked for her so that she could get ready. Then she'd have to meet his mother and help him come to grips with his father's passing. She had the feeling that Ben really did care, even if his attitude suggested otherwise. Either way, she'd be there for support.


End file.
